The AngelCollins Compendium
by Ginger Glinda the Tangerine
Summary: For my own sanity: an archive of all my AngelCollins oneshots. Now complete.
1. I Should Tell You

I Should Tell You

I Should Tell You

Angel walked into the apartment she shared with Collins, and for the first time was relieved to find it empty. She took off her wig and dropped it on the counter. Normally, it didn't bother her, but today it was itching.

She sat on the couch and pulled off her heels. They were her favourite this week, sparkly and silver- and exactly the right height for her to be able to look into Collins' eyes.

A shiver of nervousness ran through Angel's body as she thought of her partner. She pulled her legs up to her chest and buried her face in her stockinged knees. _How am I supposed to tell him?_

Someone knocked on the door. Angel swallowed the tears that were threatening her carefully applied makeup and lifted her head.

"Yeah?"

Mimi opened the door cautiously. "Angel?"

Angel got up and tried to smile bravely at her best friend. "Hey, chica."

"So did you hear?" Mimi's eyes were round with worry.

Angel nodded slowly, "It's not good," she confessed. "He said they'd have to wait for the test results to come back to be sure, but…"

Mimi hugged her tightly, on hand gently stroking her bare head.

"It's okay, querida," Mimi murmured a Angel started to cry. "We're all here for you, you know that."

"I'm scared," Angel whispered.

"It's a scary thing."

Gripping hands tightly, they sat on the couch; Angel curling her legs underneath her.

"It might not even happen, anyway," said Mimi, attempting to cheer Angel up. "I mean, what if the tests come back not showing anything? It could happen, right?"

"Mimi," Angel said softly. "How do I tell Collins?"

"You mean he doesn't know?" Mimi frowned. "But… where does he think you've been going? He must think it's kinda weird you disappearing off to the doctor's every week."

Angel shrugged, more tears queuing up expectantly behind her eyeliner. "I lied. I said I was going shopping, or getting my nails done, or…"

Mimi squeezed her hands. "I think you just have to be brave, chica."

"Can't you tell him?"

"Angel Dumott Schunard!" Mimi scolded. "Don't tell me you're turning into a wimp after all these years!"

Angel smiled faintly. "I don't want him to worry."

Mimi sighed. "Sweetie, he has to find out sometime. You can't have… What did you say they called it?"

"Kaposi's sarcoma. It's… a kind of cancer."

"Yeah. You can't have something that huge and not tell Collins. Imagine if it was the other way around. You'd want to know, right?"

"I would," Angel nodded, and tried to run her hands through her hair before remembering that it was sitting on the counter.

"Where is he, anyway?" Mimi asked.

"He's teaching," Angel explained. "He should be back around…" She looked at the clock, and panicked. "Oh, no, he's coming home soon!" She grabbed Mimi's hands pleadingly. "Mimi, chica, please, can't you- "

"I wish I could," said Mimi quietly. "But this is something you have to do yourself, Angel." She got up. "Come see us when it's over, okay?"

Angel nodded, and as Mimi closed the door she forgot all about her makeup and cried freely.

Once she'd calmed down, Angel took her wig into the bedroom, and almost laughed at the reflection she saw in the mirror.

_I'm a mess_, she thought, realising in dismay just how waterproof that stupid mascara really was.

She'd just managed to clean herself up when she heard the door open.

"Honey? Are you around?" Collins called.

Angel's heart jumped, and did a few flips just for good measure. She walked slowly to the living room to find Collins picking up her shoes from where they had benn lying next to the couch.

"Hey, sugar." Her voice sounded thick and hoarse. There was no way he could miss the fact that she'd been crying.

True to perfect, adorable form, Collins crossed the room towards her and held her. "What's wrong?"

Angel pulled away, and, taking a deep breath, looked up into Collins' face.

"I have something to tell you."

…

_Review? Yes?_

_Angel/Collins is my favourite couple in the world ever, so I hope I did them justice._

_I own nothing. Not a smidgeon._


	2. Pay Me Back

Collins watched Angel pinning various items of brightly coloured clothing up on the makeshift washing line she'd strung up on

Collins watched Angel pinning various items of brightly coloured clothing up on the makeshift washing line she'd strung up on the fire escape of their apartment. She had to stand on tiptoe to reach each end, and she was struggling to peg Collins' coat in place: each time she managed to secure one end, the other would give in to the pressure and fall off the line, the peg spinning onto the street below. Collins was in agony over whether to stay where he was and watch the scene in all its cuteness, or to go and help his Angelcake.

Fortunately, his burden was lifted when Angel finally managed to pin the coat up. She poked her tongue out at it triumphantly and brought her container of pegs back inside. Collins frowned, wondering where she'd got the pegs from in the first place. They weren't his- he preferred to wash his clothes only when absolutely necessary, and even then just threw them in a corner to dry rather than actually hanging them up. He hoped Angel hadn't bought the pegs especially for him. It would be one more good deed he would feel the need to repay her for, and he was already behind.

"Who is he?" Collins jumped. Angel had snuck up behind him and tapped his head to get his attention, totally interrupting his train of thought.

"Who is who?"

"The boy you're thinking about." Angel sat on the couch next to him, snuggling into his chest.

"Other boy?" Collins feigned shock. "You know there's no-one but you, baby."

"So what were you thinking about?"

Collins sighed, resting his head on Angel's. "Oh, you know. Just… Feeling guilty."

"Guilty?" Angel sat up so she could look at him. "About what?"

"You," Collins shrugged, then hastened to explain as Angel's face crumpled into confusion. "You do all these amazing things for me, and I've never done anything to repay you."

Angel smiled, settling back into Collins' arms. "Just those thousand sweet kisses you promised me are payment enough, honey. Besides, I don't need you to… Pay me back for anything. I just wanna be nice to you. Is that so bad?"

Collins tried to resist the urge to melt into a puddle of Angel-adoring goo, and failed.

"But… You… I mean, I…" he managed.

Angel slid down until her head was resting in his lap. "Are you trying to tell me you have to prove yourself to me, or something, sugar?" She seemed genuinely surprised.

"Yes," Collins admitted. "I feel like one day karma's gonna be like, 'You got to earn her, bitch!' and take you away from me."

Angel shot upright, knocking Collins' hand from where it had been resting on her waist, and turned to face her lover.

"Collins, that is… That's crazy! You're a crazy person!"

She kissed him deeply, cupping his face in her hands. "It's me that doesn't deserve you," she whispered.

"Now you're the crazy person," Collins smiled, smoothing the earnest frown creasing Angel's brow.

She laughed. "This could go on for hours."

"It could, but I'm right."

Angel giggled, curling on his lap with her arms around his neck. "Prove it."

Collins hugged her. "Okay. How?"

"Have my babies!" Angel demanded, shaking with laughter.

"Honey, I think there's a few vital biological issues you haven't quite worked out there."

"Okay, fine."

Angel considered, drumming her fingers on Collins' shoulder. "You could… Let me do your makeup."

"Not even true love gets me in makeup, Angelcake."

Angel giggled, blushed, buried her head in Collins' chest.

"What?" Collins laughed, smoothing hair off her face. "What did I say?"

"True love?" Angel looked up at him almost shyly.

Collins smiled. "You hadn't figured that out yet?"

Angel squealed and kissed him ecstatically. They whiled away several minutes, the kiss growing more and more passionate, until Collins was sure he would explode any second.

When the pair finally came up for air, Angel grinned. "I know how you can prove yourself." She wrinkled her nose as she said the last two words, making it clear she still thought it was completely unnecessary.

"Oh, yeah?"

Angel climbed off the bemused Collins' lap, taking his hand and pulling him after her.

"Honey, what- "

Angel laughed, opening the door out onto the fire escape and pushing Collins outside into the light drizzle that had begun to dampen the almost perfectly dry washing.

"Get the clothes off the line for me!"

Collins lifted his hands, feeling the cold water beginning to soak him.

"As long as I get rewarded," he called through the door.

"Oh, you will be, honey," Angel smiled. "You will be."

Collins grinned and began to unpeg the clothes. _What the hell,_ he thought. _Karma can wait._


	3. Okay

Sorry if this is kinda depressing, but it sat and fermented in my head and wouldn't go away

Sorry if this is kinda depressing, but it sat and fermented in my head and wouldn't go away! So here goes… here goooes…

…

Collins walked into the hospital the minute visiting hours started. He didn't even need to identify himself to the receptionist anymore- she had seen him so many times before that she had no doubt why he was there or what he was doing.

He reached Angel's room and opened the door quietly, in case she was sleeping. She turned her face towards him and her eyes lit up.

"Collins!"

"Hey, honey," he smiled, slipping inside and closing the door. Angel reached out and held his hands as he kissed her forehead.

"You're late today," she informed him, as he settled on the bed next to her, one arm around her.

"I'm not. It's just gone nine, right?"

"But slightly more gone nine than usual," Angel pointed out, tracing the lines on Collins' palm.

"Maybe their clock's getting slow."

"Or maybe you were with some other boy," Angel joked.

"Never."

Angel smiled and kissed his hand.

"Did you have breakfast today?" she asked.

"A little," Collins lied. He didn't eat much anymore- eating took up time he could be spending with Angel, and he refused to let her slip away without saying goodbye.

"Honey, you're starving yourself," Angel frowned, concerned.

"I manage," Collins replied.

"I want you to go home tonight and eat… a steak or something," Angel ordered.

"I'm a vegetarian, Angelcake," he reminded her.

"Don't care. Stuff yourself."

"Okay."

"Good." Angel hugged Collins' arm, satisfied, and turned her head to look up at him. "You know the restaurant in Santa Fe? The one we're opening?"

Collins nodded. Angel loved talking about the restaurant. Since she'd been admitted to hospital, they'd perfected the interior décor (lavish yet tasteful), the location (in a cosy back street, preferably cobblestone, shaded in summer, but not enough to block the winter sun), even the colour of the tablecloths (wine red).

"Will we serve meat? I mean, 'cause you don't want to enforce your beliefs on anyone, but…" Angel paused to catch her breath, She tired out so easily now. "But, you hate meat, so…"

"We'll have a separate vegetarian menu," Collins suggested.

"We're not having meatless balls, though, sugar," Angel grinned. "They look so gross."

"Okay," Collins conceded. "We can have pasta, though, right?"

"Cooked by a beautiful, gay Italian chef," Angel promised.

They lay in silence for a while. Angel's breath grew deeper, until Collins thought she'd fallen asleep.

She shifted, and her eyes fluttered open.

"Tommy?"

"Yeah?"

"When we get to Santa Fe, can we have a picket fence?"

"Of course we can, Angelcake."

"Okay."

She snuggled closer. "And a four-poster bed?"

Collins smiled, imagining how small Angel would look in one of those.

"Sure," he whispered. "And window boxes."

Angel's eyes closed, and her smile threatened to light the whole room. "I always wanted window boxes."

"We'll have more window boxes than you'll know what to do with," Collins assured her.

Angel breathed in shakily. "With sunflowers," she murmured. "And… tulips…" Her mouth twitched. "And pansies."

Collins nodded, his cheek rubbing against Angel's head.

"Promise not to cry, okay, Tommy?" she breathed.

"What?"

Angel squeezed Collins' fingers weakly. "Stay with me until I fall asleep."

"I'm not going anywhere," he told her softly.

With great effort, Angel managed to open her eyes one last time.

"I love you."

With a tiny sigh, all the life left Angel's body, almost before Collins knew what was happening. He forced back the tears she hadn't wanted to fall and gently kissed the top of her head, praying she could still hear him.

"I love you too, Angel."

…

_Reviews make me deliriously happy… Oh, and I own nothing._


	4. Friend

"Well, hey, sugar, what are you doing here

"Well, hey, sugar, what are you doing here?"

Collins frowned. As far as he knew, no one else was in the apartment with Angel, so who was she talking to? He opened the door cautiously to see Angel sitting on the couch, her synthetic hair falling over her face as she bent over something in her hands. She looked up as she heard the door open and smiled brightly at her lover.

"Hey, honey. Look, I found a friend."

She laughed, holding out her hand to show Collins the spider that was crawling around there. He just managed to stop himself from jumping back in shock.

"Does it have a name?" he asked, leaning over to give Angel a kiss hello, which she gratefully returned.

"Not sure yet," she replied thoughtfully. "I was considering Muffy, though."

Collins laughed, heading into the kitchen as an excuse to get away from Angel's new buddy.

"You want a drink, baby?"

"Okay." Angel followed him, leaning on the counter and watching the spider clamber over her hands.

"It's so cute the way they never stop moving," she commented. "They're like little energy bubbles."

"With too many legs," Collins muttered, but Angel didn't hear.

"We could call her Mimi," the drummer mused.

Collins turned to face her, surprise forcing his eyebrows several inches up his forehead. "You're not seriously considering keeping that thing as a pet, are you?"

"Everyone needs a home, Thomas," she admonished him gently.

"But… it's…" Collins gestured vaguely, trying to explain without actually explaining.

"Collins!" Angel gasped, dropping the spider on the counter on the counter so she could pinch the professor's cheeks. "Are you scared?"

"No," Collins lied, taking Angel's hands away from his face and occupying himself with intertwining their fingers so he didn't have to look at her.

"You are!" Angel crowed, beginning to giggle. "Sweetie, you never told me you were scared of spiders!"

"I'm not!" Collins felt himself blush. "I just… don't like them."

"Oh, sure," Angel nodded sagely. "That's what Mimi always says. And we all know what she's like around the creepy-crawlies."

Collins laughed, remembering the time Mimi had literally leapt into his arms screaming after she thought she'd seen a spider on their couch.

"I am not as bad as her," he defended himself.

"Of course not, sugar," Angel grinned, leaning in for a short kiss before deftly swiping her spider off the counter and holding it out to her lover.

"She won't hurt you," she assured him.

Collins took a step back. "I'll… admire her from here."

Angel grabbed his hand and plonked the spider into it. "See, she like you," she announced.

Collins dropped the spider on the floor and wiped his hand on his pants. "I'm just not a spider person, Angelcake."

"I guess that means I don't get to keep her," Angel pouted, pretending to sulk.

Collins pulled her closer to him, tracing the line of her lower lip as it stuck out. "I'll make it up to you."

Angel grinned wickedly. "You just better, mister."


	5. To S&M

"Honey

"Honey?"

"Yeah?"

"You know in the Life before?"

"Uh-huh?"

"How we were toasting all that stuff?"

"Yeah. Although why you felt the need to propose a toast to dildos I have no idea."

"That was Mimi's idea, not mine! What do you think I am, some kind of girl?"

"I thought you were!"

"Meh, I can't keep track. Anyway, can I ask you a question? About this one thing everybody toasted?"

"Sure. Although if it's about the whole trisexual thing, I don't have a clue either."

"No, it's… S&M."

"What about it?"

"What is it?"

…

_Review? Yes? You get yummy things._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Collins, Angel, RENT, the Life Café, or any trisexuals. They are all the products of His Holiness Jonathan Larson's brain._


	6. Maybe

She'd been gone so long, Collins thought he may as well give up and admit it

She'd been gone so long, Collins thought he may as well give up and admit it. She was never coming back.

Maybe it was time to move on? Stop waiting for the door to open and reveal her standing there, even though he knew it was impossible? He knew Mark and Roger were always ready to set him up with someone. Maybe it would be good, for a while. To have a change.

He sighed, looked out the window, looked at the pile of papers he still had to mark. He could get started, he supposed, but everything reminded him of her somehow, even first-year essays on religion.

Collins got up and paced around the room. He knew she wasn't coming back, not now she was… He tried not to think the dreaded word. It threatened to overpower his brain, nightmarish images dancing at the very edge of his thoughts.

He shook his head and sat down, opening the paper at the top of the pile. The words swam in front of his eyes and he pushed the paper away in disgust. There was no way he could concentrate when he was missing her this much.

He wandered into the kitchen, absently picking up her favourite mug and considering washing it.

He jumped and nearly dropped the cup when the door opened and Angel's clear, laughing voice rang out through the apartment.

"Honey, I'm home!"

Collins swept the drag queen into his arms, breathing her familiar scent with relief.

"Did you have fun…" he swallowed and forced the word out. "Shopping?"

"Sure did," Angel grinned. "Did you miss me?"

He kissed her, thanking whatever crazy-ass god had brought her to him.

"You have no idea, my Angel. You have no idea."

…

Bonus extra special virtual prizes for anyone who can tell me where "Honey I'm home" originally came from. I have no clue.

_Reviews make me happy! And everyone wants to make me happy, right? Right…?_


	7. I Love You

"Honey

"Honey?"

"Yes, sugar?"

"What are you doing?"

"I'm… Nothing."

"You were trying to look skinny again, weren't you?"

"No!… Maybe."

"Angel Dumott Schunard- "

"Don't you go full-naming me, Mr Collins."

"Well, there's nothing wrong with how you look!"

"Oh, really. Seriously, look at that…"

"And a damn fine leg it is too."

"Honey…"

"Angel, your legs are not fat."

"Maybe we can agree to disagree."

"I love your legs."

"That's very sweet of you, Thomas, but- "

"Oh, so my opinion doesn't count now, huh?"

"No! I mean, yes?"

"You know I love everything about you, babygirl."

"Honey, that's…"

"I especially love it when you blush."

"You… You can't possibly love everything."

"I do. I love the way you fish for compliments."

"I wasn't- "

"I love the way you always close your eyes when you're drumming."

"I do?"

"And I love the way you look when you're confused."

"You know I hate it when you tweak my nose, honey…"

"I love how you randomly start skipping when you're happy… For that matter, I love how you're always so damn happy all the time."

"Are you kidding? Did you even see me when Mimi stole my skirt with the flowers?"

"And I _love_ the skirt with the flowers. And the zebra tights. And how you always have to show me what you're wearing before you go out."

"I just like making you happy, sugar."


	8. Lucky

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even an eyebrow, or something._

…

Angel stretched and opened her eyes, pulling the blankets tighter around her. Her sleep-addled brain took a moment to register that she was actually inside, with blankets, rather than huddled in a doorway over her pickle tub with sleet melting in her hair. The roof was such a welcome luxury that she had to lie and stare at it for a while, wondering if Collins knew how much he had changed her life.

Eventually Angel sat up, the realisation that Collins wasn't lying in the bed next to her finally having wormed its way into her head. She reluctantly left the comfort of the duvet, swinging her legs out of bed and picked Collins' shirt pulling it on over her nakedness and padding out to the kitchen, only to find it as empty as the bedroom.

She stopped in the doorway, considering the view. This was what Collins saw every day, she mused. He'd walk out of the bedroom, probably still throwing on clothes, and see the sunlight glinting off the toaster, the piles of random books and papers stacked on various surfaces, the photo of Mark and Roger stuck to the fridge, Angel's skirt still lying in a heap on the floor where it had fallen the night before…

Angel grinned, picking the skirt up and folding it over the arm of the couch. _He probably doesn't see that every day._

There was a mug of coffee sitting on the kitchen counter. Collins was such and absent-minded professor, Angel smiled to herself, going over to clean it up. It was still warm to the touch, and there was a note sitting next to it.

_Hey, Angel, _she read. _It's your coffee. I'm not that much of a professor. I was going to bring it in to you, but I didn't want to wake you. You looked like you were dreaming of something good. I have a class this morning, and another one this afternoon, but I'll be home around eleven, if you wanted to stick around. I better go, though, much as I'd like to be there when you wake up. Sorry about this. Love, Collins._

_Love?_ Angel grinned hugely, glad no one else was in the apartment to see her looking like a doofus. Wrapping her hands around the coffee mug and taking a sip, she went over to the kitchen window and looked out onto the street, imagining she was Collins, who saw this view every day, pretending nothing surprised her, so that if anyone saw her, her expression of wide-eyed wonder wouldn't be quite so obvious. She couldn't help but be amazed, though, when light snowflakes began to coat the street, dancing lazily past the window as if for her alone.

Angel watched the snow until her coffee was gone before cleaning out the mug and realising she didn't know where to put it. Rather than nose her way through Collins' private kitchen, she left it on the counter and spent the next fifteen minutes trying to find the various items of clothing she'd shed the previous night. In the process, she found three of Collins' shirts, sixteen bookmarks, three empty CD cases, two caseless CDs, none of which corresponded to the cases, three movie ticket stubs, and several colonies of dust bunnies.

_How can anyone live like this?_ Angel surveyed the apartment, hands on hips. It could do with a spring clean, she decided. _Or a winter clean,_ she corrected herself, remembering the snow. _I wonder if he even owns a mop? Or a broom?_

After giving up on her policy of not going through Collins' cupboards and donning a pair of his pants, Angel managed to find one disused broom and a duster that looked like it had been given to Collins by his mother, and had definitely never been used.

She got to work cleaning the living room, even managing to move the couch out of the way. She dusted every surface, managed to find some old teatowels and wiped the TV and windows with them, and then swept the dust bunnies into oblivion. She was just about to start on the bedroom when the front door opened, and Collins called out to her.

"Angel? Where'd my couch go?"

Angel stood in the bedroom doorway, feeling strangely self-conscious without her wig.

"It's in the corner. I… had to move it so I could sweep."

Collins looked at her like he couldn't believe she was real.

"You swept?"

Angel nodded. "And dusted, and cleaned the windows. Not that I'm trying to show off or anything."

She wondered when the last time was that Collins had even heard the word "dusted". Judging by the look on his face, not for a very long time.

"You know, just because I left you alone in my apartment doesn't mean you had to go and make it fall in love with you."

Angel grinned, setting her duster aside and skipping over to put her arms around Collins' waist. "I'm sure you guys can share."

Collins kissed her. "I don't know. Pretty sure I want you all to myself."

Angel's insides tingled. "Okay. That works too."

She tilted her head up to kiss him again, and was not disappointed.

"So," Collins grinned when he'd finished robbing Angel of all ability to think. "Any other surprises you wanna spring on me? You didn't renovate the bathroom, or anything?"

"Nope. Just tidied your closet."

Collins laughed, slipping his arm around Angel's waist as she led him towards the bedroom.

"This I gotta see."

Angel laced her fingers through his and pulled him down onto the bed. "There's something else you should see before you head back to class."

Collins giggled. _How does he do that?_ _And how does he make it so damn sexy?_ Angel thought, as a chill ran down her spine.

"Show me," Collins grinned.

…

After he'd left, Angel lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling for the second time that morning, and, despite the strangeness of it, thanking the muggers who had stolen Collins' coat and brought them together. She was, she decided, the luckiest Latino drag queen drummer with a love of rice, beans, and cheese there ever was.

…

_Reviews get kisses slash cookies. And a happy face! Everyone needs one of those, right? Thanking you!_


	9. He Likes Me

I don't own I don't own. Or rent, really, the fics just sort of seem to happen…

…

I hope he's gonna be okay. Although once we cleaned up all the blood from his little nosebleed he didn't actually look so bad. More than not bad, actually. And Angel, honey, he's positive! It doesn't matter what you…

Let's not get carried away, sugar. He might not like boys. Or… girls like you.

Oh, my God, what if he doesn't like me like this? What if he thinks it's weird? Which, gotta admit, it kinda is, if you think about it.

What's wrong with you, girl? You've never been like this before. You have pickletubs of confidence. You don't care what people think. Capische?

But what if he doesn't like me? I like him. I mean, I really like him. Him and his giggle.

Okay, sugar, get the goofy grin off your face. He'll like you. He will.

Okay. Here goes. Here's me, being me, walking towards him.

Is he smiling?

Here's me twirling for him.

He is smiling! He likes it!

He likes me!

…

_Reviewers get kisses. Possibly even from Angel._


	10. The Tights

Disclaimer: I don't own Angel, or her tights, or her boyfriend Disclaimer: I don't own Angel, or her tights, or her boyfriend. Unfortunately for me…

…

The apartment was quiet when Collins walked in. He took off his coat and folded it over his arm as he checked the kitchen for any sign of Angel.

"Angelcake? Are you here?"

Dropping the coat, Collins headed for the bedroom, confused as to why his lover wasn't answering him.

"Honey? Are you- "

Collins stopped in the doorway, not believing the sight before him. Angel was standing side on in front of the mirror, staring intently at her reflection. She had rolled up a pair of tights and put them down her tank top so they imitated breasts. She looked up, and, seeing Collins, threw the tights on the bed, blushing furiously.

"Thomas! I… I didn't expect you back so soon."

Collins grinned. "What's with the tights?"

Angel hid her face in her hands. "Nothing…"

The professor crossed the room to put his arms around her waist. "Really?"

"I wanted to see what I looked like as a girl," Angel explained, still blushing, as she buried her face in his chest.

"You are a girl, baby," Collins smiled into Angel's hair. "Most of the time."

Angel shook her head. "Sugar…"

Collins slid a finger under his lover's chin, lifting it to look into her face. "I think you look damn sexy whatever you feel the need to stick down your top."

"You really thought that was…" Angel stared at him. "I don't believe you."

Collins grabbed the tights from the bed, balling them up as Angel had done and fitting them back under her shirt. She laughed disbelievingly, shaking her head.

"Thomas, you are…"

Collins giggled, stepping back to admire his handiwork. "Damn, woman, you're making me straight," he growled playfully, expertly groping Angel's makeshift chest.

"Well, stop it!" she giggled, attempting to slap his hand away. "If you're going all straight on me, you're gonna be very disappointed."

"Really?" Collins picked her up, twirling her around before settling neatly on the bed with her in his lap. "Shame."

Angel smiled, shifting so she sat with her legs around Collins' waist. "We could always get rid of the stupid tights, sweetie."

Collins shrugged in agreement, then smiled, pulling Angel's tank top off so both it and the tights fell to the floor.

Angel smiled wickedly, pulling him closer. "That's much more like it."

…

_Y'all go review now, y'hear?_


	11. Sleeping

A/N: I am so excited

A/N: I am so excited. Seriously. I am now the proud owner of one genuine RENT bible. It is awesome. Yeah, just wanted to get that off my chest…

_Anyway, here's my first AngelCollins fluff for a very long time… Enjoy!_

…

Angel was sleeping, sprawled on the couch with a magazine lying face down on her stomach. A strand of her black wig had fallen across her face, and fluttered each time she breathed out.

Collins leaned on the back of the couch, watching his lover's peaceful face. When she twitched, frowning, and let out a frightened moan, he reached over and stroked her brow, smoothing the lines of consternation that ran across it. Angel sighed, rolling onto her side, and a smile flashed across her face.

She was beautiful, Collins thought, brushing her hair behind her ear. He could spend all day thinking about the way her cheeks dimpled when she smiled, practically begging to be kissed. Or the way she pouted when she was concentrating. Or the way her face looked when she drummed, like she was seeing beauty in the air somewhere Collins couldn't quite grasp.

Angel stirred, pulling her legs up to her chest. Collins settled himself on the arm of the couch, carefully lifting her head into his lap to finger-comb her hair. She mumbled something incoherent and buried her face in his leg.

Collins smiled, still absently petting her head, and picked up her hand, pressing it gently to his lips. This was heaven, he realised vaguely. She didn't even have to be awake for him to fall even more in love with her. Just being with her was enough.

Angel took a deep breath and rolled onto her back, blinking slowly as she woke up.

"Oh…" she smiled groggily, reaching up to lace her fingers though Collins'. "Hey, you."

She sat up, snuggling close to him and resting her head on his shoulder, suppressing a yawn as she did so.

"I love you, Tommy," she mumbled sleepily. Collins placed a kiss on the side of her head. He didn't need to reply.

Angel picked up his hand, absently stroking it.

"Your fingers are so pretty," she smiled.

"Whatever you say, Angelcake," he murmured, pulling his hand out of her grip to wrap it around her waist. "I love you."

He didn't need to say anything, but he did anyway, if only to see her smile.

…

_Disclaimer: Jonathan Larson owns the entire world._


	12. Perfection

I'm resting my forehead against Collins' temple, all my concentration dwelling on the protruding bone of his wrist, sticking i

I'm resting my forehead against Collins' temple, all my concentration dwelling on the protruding bone of his wrist, sticking innocently out of his sleeve. It's not a particularly striking bone, but it is beautiful in its understatement. I t has just the right amount of casual attractiveness, balanced with the perfection that naturally comes wi8th being part of Collins.

I pick up the wrist, tracing circles around that one particular nub of bone. Collins curls his fingers around mine and squeezes my hand.

The fingers that thread their way through mine carry the same aura of casual perfection, unassumingly making my insides fluffy with devotion. They're not very earth-shattering fingers, really. They do what they have to do, and, I admit, they do it well, but they don't have to look amazing while they do it. That is where their charm lies.

I lift our two joined hands to my lips and rest them there, wondering if Collins can feel my smile against his fingers.

Collins' hand moves in my grip, twisting out of my fingers to lift my chin towards him.

When our lips meet, I give up trying to describe his perfection.


	13. Sweet Dreams

A/N: Oh, how I loves my fluff… A/N: Oh, how I loves my fluff…

…

Angel struggled to keep her eyes open long enough to hear Collins tell her how much he loved her.

"I have no idea how I survived before you," he whispered into the top of her head.

"Mmm…" Angel smiled weakly, biting back a yawn.

Collins stopped nuzzling Angel's head long enough to laugh. "I'm sorry, baby. Am I keeping you awake?"

"No!" Angel forced her eyes open to look up at her lover. "Honey, I'm listening. Honestly. I love you too."

Collins grinned. "You know, I could have been saying anything."

"Uh-huh," Angel murmured, unable to stop herself drifting off again.

"I coulda been telling you all about the hot threesome I had with Maureen and Joanne this afternoon," the professor whispered wickedly.

"Mmm… Okay, sweetie."

"Or my gigantic crush on Mark."

Angel snuggled closer to Collins, resting her head on his shoulder. "Anything you say."

Collins massaged the back of her head. "Or I coulda been telling you all about my plans for world domination."

Angel let out a soft sigh and her lips brushed across Collins' collarbone as she buried her face deeper in his skin. She didn't say anything, so Collins assumed she'd fallen asleep.

He smiled and kissed her head. "Sweet dreams, my Angel."

Floating just on the edge of sleep, Angel was still just awake enough to whisper, "I'll dream of you, Tommy."

…

_I own nothing. Not even a toenail._

_Reviews are nice! They make you get Angel snuggles. And anyone who can spot my subtle Sweeney Todd reference gets extra fluffy ones._


	14. I Have To Get This Done

Angel gathered all her outing strength and turned on her lover

Angel gathered all her outing strength and turned on her lover.

"But _Collins- _"

She stopped, realising that the professor wasn't even looking at her, instead burying his face in the lesson plan he'd been practically making love to for the past hour.

"Honey you know I have to get this done," he mumbled in an absent monotone.

Angel stamped her foot. "You promised it would only take half an hour," she complained, playing up the fact that her voice made her sound childish. "And I'm bored…"

"Contrary to popular opinion," Collins informed the paper, "sex is not the only way to pass the time."

"Says the horniest guy in New York," Angel pointed out, massaging Collins' shoulders. At first, the professor leaned into her touch, but soon shook himself and pulled away, staring determinedly at the lesson plan.

"I refuse to succumb to your amazing massage skills," he muttered.

"But sugar…"

"Hey, that was a compliment," Collins pointed out.

"I know, sweetie," Angel murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck, "But usually we make out after you compliment me, so it was kind of hard to tell."

She kissed his cheek, the top of his head, the back of his neck. He sighed, pushing his papers away and leaning back in his chair.

"I can't concentrate like this, Ang."

"That's the _point_, Thomas. Good to see you're catching on."

Angel let go of Collins and sat on the table in front of him, resting her stockinged feet on his knees. "Now pay attention to me," she instructed.

Collins rolled his eyes dramatically. "If I have to," he sighed, pulling Angel onto his lap.

"I win," she grinned.

Collins smiled, leaning in to kiss her. "Five minutes."

"Twenty."

"Ten."

"Fifteen."

"Eleven."

"Fifteen."

"Twelve and a half?"

"Fifteen."

"I give up," Collins shrugged.

Exactly thirty-two and a half minutes later, the lovers broke apart, both satisfied. Collins looked at his watch.

"Oh, shit!"

"What's wrong, sugar?"

"I have a class in precisely seven seconds," Collins explained, reaching around Angel to search for the sacred lesson plan.

"Here." Angel handed him the paper with a kiss, and the pair eventually managed to unentangle themselves from the chair and each other. Angel walked Collins to the door, where they shared a long, involved goodbye kiss.

"Angelcake, I'm late," Collins reminded her.

"Okay." She flung her arms around him and hugged him. "I love you."

"I love you too," he assured her, stepping out of the hug, but keeping hold of her hands. "But I really have to go."

He was only ten minutes late to class. And the fact the he let his students go early had nothing to do with the fact that he couldn't stop thinking about his lady love.

Angel was folding washing when Collins got home. She looked up, expecting him to return to his work, but instead, he picked her up and carried her towards the bedroom without breaking stride.

"Thomas!" Angel grinned. "What's…"

Collins shrugged, an admirable achievement while carrying someone. "I missed you."

He sat on the bed and deposited the drummer in his lap, where she basked in his attention for a few seconds before getting up and heading back out to the other room.

"What are you doing, Angelcake?"

She let out an evil giggle. "I have to finish the laundry. You do want to wear something to work tomorrow, right, baby?"

Collins gaped like a dying asthmatic fish watching Jaws. "But…"

"It's gotta be done sometime, sugar."

Collins summoned all the pouting strength he could find, which, admittedly, wasn't much, but was usually enough to win Angel over, and followed her, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind.

"But _Angel_…"

…

_-evil laugh- Oh, how I love to torment Collins…_

_I own nothing. Not even the stitching on Collins' buttonholes._

_Reviews are awesome! They make me happy, and when I am happy I am scarily free with the A/C huggles…_


	15. Angel's Candles

Angel had lit candles

Angel had lit candles. She had found some red roses for a reasonable price in a florist only a few blocks away, and put them in a vase she'd managed to find in some dingy pawn shop on the way home. She'd cleaned the vase, of course. Twice. She'd even found a red tablecloth and spent hours embroidering hearts into the corners.

She'd done all this for Collins, and then he'd called from work and said that he was gonna be late home, and he'd probably just grab something from the Life on his way home.

Clearly it didn't matter to him that this was the sixty-ninth anniversary of the first time he'd told her he loved her.

She turned the lights back on, feeling naïve and juvenile. She blew out all the candles and found herself wondering why this was bothering her so much. She blinked back tears as she folded the tablecloth and went right back to feeling immature.

Angel wandered into the kitchen and stabbed a fork into one of the plates of pasta she'd prepared. She took a huge mouthful and had barely begun to chew it when she realised she wasn't even that hungry.

"Why are you acting like this, chica?" Angel's inner Mimi chided. "You know he can't help it."

Angel sighed. She knew Collins was busy at the moment, with midterms and stuff, and he always had a perfectly good excuse for everything, so why did every heartfelt apology feel like a betrayal? It was childish and stupid. It ws like blaming him when the hot water rna out.

She stirred the pasta around the plate aimlessly, trying to keep herself from crying. Yes, she missed Collins, and wished he didn't have to work so much, and wished he remembered as many pointless anniversaries as she did, but not everything could go her way all the time.

"Okay?" Inner Mimi made another unwelcome appearance. "So quit sulking, chickadee."

Angel occupied herself with putting the pasta in a container for later. Collins couldn't help being late, in much the same way as she couldn't help needing to feel loved. She needed him to be with her every second, but she couldn't reasonably expect him to know or understand this fact.

Inner Mimi scoffed. "He does know. You know that, baby. But sometimes real life interferes with shit."

Angel was beginning to dislike Inner Mimi. If she wanted to wallow in her inexplicable misery, she felt she should be able to do so without anyone trying to make her feel better, especially someone who wasn't even there.

She picked up a teatowel and aimlessly wiped the counter with it, flicking crumbs around without really making anything cleaner. She hoped vaguely, and more than a little selfishly, that the cuisine down at the Life Café had suddenly gone dramatically downhill, and once he got home Collins would be absurdly grateful for reheated sixty-ninth-I-love-you-anniversary pasta.

Angel walked out into the main room and picked up a magazine, attempting to look like she had better things to do than sit around waiting for Collins. Inner Mimi smothered a snigger.

When the door opened, Angel was sitting innocently on the couch, reading the same sentence about fixing clumpy mascara that she'd been looking at for the past ten minutes. Collins, oblivious, planted a kiss on the top of her head.

"Hey, baby," he murmured into her hair. "Sorry I'm late."

Inner Mimi poked Angel in the ribs, urging her to tell Collins everything she'd been feeling all evening.

"Hey, honey," Angel smiled, ignoring Inner Mimi. "Did you eat?"

Collins shrugged. "I wasn't really hungry."

"So much for the romantic dinner, then, huh?" Inner Mimi put in.

"Just whose side are you on, sweetie?" Angel demanded silently.

"Do you want anything?" she asked Collins, gravitating towards the fridge.

"You bet," Collins grinned, grabbing Angel by the waist and kissing her like it was their last.

All thoughts of loneliness and pasta were pushed out of Angel's mind, and she knew exactly how sorry he was when he broke lip contact for just long enough to whisper, "I love you."

"I love you too," she promised.

Collins' smile as he leaned in to kiss her again restored her faith in humanity. Her last thought before Collins completely overtook her brain was that Inner Mimi had gone oddly silent.


	16. Something Good

It was around 4am when Angel woke up

It was around 4am when Angel woke up. He rolled over in Collins' arms to get a better look at the professor, who was sleeping peacefully with a tiny smile on his face. Angel beamed and leaned in to kiss his lover's cheek, and he unconsciously pulled him closer.

_How in the name of Stephen Schwartz did I ever manage to deserve him?_ Angel snuggled closer to the sleeping Collins, drowsily tracing patterns on his chest as he tried to think of anything he had done that could possibly have reaped Collins as a reward.

He'd rescued ladybirds out of the pool at primary school, every summer day for the six years he'd spent there, before his mother had been unable to pay for him to attend. Even in winter, he'd sometimes sneak into the pool area and crouch next to the water, carefully picking up each tiny bug and depositing it on the concrete. All the ladybug lives he'd saved had to add up to at least one month with Collins, he figured.

But what about the other three? How had he earned those?

Collins shifted in his sleep, rolling over so his back was to Angel. He wrapped his arms around the teacher's waist almost without realising, still lost in thought.

He'd helped his mother out a lot, he supposed, cooking and cleaning when he could have been shopping. Not that they'd ever hd much money for that. Still, window shopping had been one of his dearest pastimes.

_That doesn't amount to much_, he scolded himself. _Maybe a week at the most. Less, because you love cooking._

He used to help people cross roads a lot, he remembered, until he'd tried to help a blind guy cross Bleecker Street and discovered that he wasn't blind at all, just pretending so he could cop a feel from unsuspecting, kind-hearted girls. Angel had given up the Boy Scout thing after that.

He'd probably given away hundreds of dollars to homeless people, not to mention Mark, Roger and Collins. That must count for at least another month, he reasoned.

And then there was the blanket thing.

Collins finally gave in to gravity and rolled over onto his back. Angel scooted out of the way to avoid being crushed, the abrupt movement finally jolting him out of his twilit place between asleep and awake, and he stared up at the ceiling, smiling as he remembered his expert, but well-meaning fooling of the blanket lady.

It had started innocently enough, with Angel replacing the woman's torn, ratty-looking blanket with a new one when he'd come across her sleeping. The blanket lady hadn't even noticed, and had accepted the gift without ever knowing who had given it.

From that day on, Angel had kept a close eye on the condition of the blanket, noting the blanket lady's movements and her favourite hangouts. He replaced the blanket when it got worn, or when the weather demanded. Most of the time, the blanket lady didn't even realise her namesake had been replaced.

_There goes another two weeks_, Angel thought.

Next to him, Collins stirred and opened his eyes.

"Angelcake? Are you awake?"

"Mmm…"

Angel quickly considered the rest of his life, searching for good deeds he might have omitted.

"What's with the deep thought?" Collins murmured, turning Angel's face towards him.

"I was…" Angel paused and smiled, realising now how stupid his dilemma sounded out in the open. "Just thinking. About you."

"Well, stop it."

Angel frowned. "What?"

"If you spend all your time _thinking_ about me," Collins explained, absently stroking Angel's cheek with his thumb, "then you're not gonna be available to do other things."

"And what other things did you have in mind?" Angel grinned mischievously.

"Well, making my breakfast, for a start, woman," Collins joked.

"Sugar, it's five in the morning."

"Well, you know me," the professor shrugged. "I'm always hungry and horny."

Angel giggled, rolling the two of them over so he was straddling Collins' waist. "I think we can do something about that last part."

_On reflection_, Angel thought as the two lovers began to kiss hungrily, _maybe you don't have to earn him at all. There is no way you could ever have done anything good enough to deserve this._


	17. Surprise

"Angelcake, wake up

"Angelcake, wake up."

"Wh… honey, what in the name of all things holy is the time?"

Collins shrugged. "About four thirty, I think. Come on, get up."

Angel stretched, blinking as consciousness wormed its way into her brain. "What's going on?"

"It's a surprise," Collins said, in a tone of voice suggesting that if he had been Mimi, he would have said "duh".

"Don't you have classes today?" Angel yawned.

"Public holiday," Collins invented. He felt bad about lying to Angel, but then again, the last time he had tried to stay home to be with her, she had dragged him bodily out of bed, handed him a packed lunch in a paper bag, and chased him out the door brandishing a mop. Where she'd got the mop form Collins had no idea, but he was pretty sure it had been made specifically for brandishing.

"What kind of public holiday?" asked Angel suspiciously, then squealed as Collins, despairing of her ever getting up of her own accord, picked her up and slung her over his shoulder.

"Uh… president's birthday," he tried. This seemed to satisfy Angel.

When the pair reached the lobby of Angel's apartment building, Collins put the drag queen down and grabbed her hand. "Come on, baby, we have to hurry."

"Thomas."

"Yes, Angelcake?"

"I don't have any shoes."

"Ah, fear not, my lady," Collins grinned, producing a pair of Angel's less lethal high heels from somewhere in the recesses of his coat. She looked at him blearily, seeming to only just have noticed that he was dressed.

"And I'm wearing my pyjamas…"

"No-one's gonna see you, Ang."

Angel sighed, her lack of sleep making her irritable. "Sugarplum, this is New York, remember? The city that never sleeps?"

"That may be so, but I'm sure the people do sometimes."

Angel smiled. "The pyjamas have bunnies on them," she pointed out, a little half-heartedly.

"And what fine bunnies they are too."

The lovers walked out of the building in comfortable silence, hand in hand, Angel keeping a wary eye out for pyjama-mocking nocturnals. When they reached their destination, she frowned, squinting up at the building they stood in front of.

"Sweetness, this is Marky and Roger's building."

"You know I fell in love with you for your powers of observation, baby."

Angel's bottom lip stuck out. "And here I was thinking it was because I'm so damn sexy."

"Well, that too," Collins grinned, pulling her close for a brief kiss. After a few seconds he pulled away, opening the door to the building and ushering Angel inside. "Come on, we don't wanna be late."

"Late for what?"

Collins just smiled knowingly, taking Angel's hand again and leading her up to the roof.

"This isn't funny, Thoma- "

The rest of Angel's sentence was lost in a gasp of amazement as she took in the sight before her.

The roof of Mark and Roger's building always caught the sunrise, and toady was no different, with the first pink-tinged rays just grazing the edge as Collins and Angel walked outside. In a small, well-swept area that would be nicely heated by the growing light, a small table holding two glasses and a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket had been set up. On either side of the table were two chairs, with a bunch of roses lying on the chair nearest to Angel.

"We're right on time," Collins smiled, picking up the flowers and handing them to his lover with a kiss.

Angel attempted to hug the roses before realising that they had thorns, and settled for hugging Collins instead.

"Tommy, this is…"

Collins didn't wait for her to finish. Her beaming smile held all the adjectives he needed.

The couple sat at the table to watch the sun rise, Angel forsaking her chair in favour of Collins' lap. They poured champagne and drank it quietly, neither wanting to destroy the peace of the moment.

Finally, Angel turned and looked up into her lover's face. "I love you, honey."

"I love you too," Collins smiled, leaning his head on Angel's. "And Angelcake?"

"Mmm?"

"Happy birthday."


	18. Pool Party

Disclaimer: I don't own RENT rights

Disclaimer: I don't own RENT rights. At all. Not even a little bit. Just don't need 'em in my life. Don't want any part of it… Okay, so I jest about the wanting part. But whatever…

…

"This is stupid," Collins announced, exhaling loudly at the sky.

"What?" Angel put down the paper she'd been using to fan herself with to look over at her lover.

"I'm gonna melt if it gets any hotter," the professor explained, then frowned. "Honey is that an essay?"

Angel blinked. "Could be."

"And here's me thinking someone didn't turn one in."

Angel passed the paper over sheepishly. "Sorry."

Collins shrugged, waving a dismissive hand. "It's too hot to work."

He stared down at the street below. The pair was sitting on the fire escape of their apartment, where Angel had been sunbathing. The sun had long since vanished, but the oppressive heat remained, rendering both professor and drummer unable to move back inside.

"We should go swimming," Collins suggested, in a poorly disguised attempt to get Angel naked.

"Sugar, you know I'm not that easy," she smiled. "Besides, do you really think anything's gonna be open this late?"

"Aha," Collins grinned. "You forget who you're talking to. In Thomas B. Collins' world, nothing ever closes."

He leapt up from where he had been sitting on the steps of the fire escape, slumped against the wall. Angel looked at him like he'd just suggested they have a threesome with Maureen.

"Honey, are you serious?"

"Perfectly." Collins held out a hand to help Angel to her feet. "Coming?"

Angel giggled. "What the hell. You know I love your crazy schemes."

…

"It's a fence."

"Yes, Angelcake, yes it is… Ow! What was that for?"

The two lovers' mad dash from their apartment had ended against the back fence of the nearest swimming pool, still giggling weakly, until Angel's brain kicked in and registered her surroundings.

"Aren't you supposed to…"

"Use the front entrance?"

"Well, yeah."

Collins grinned, kneeling and cupping his hands in a step to boost Angel up over the fence. "Tonight, we're being rebellious."

"Aren't you always?"

Angel took off her heels and stepped gingerly onto the anarchist's proffered hands. She jumped lightly to the ground on the other side of the barrier, and was soon joined by Collins, who vaulted over the fence like he did this every night.

"You practised?" Angel smiled, raising an eyebrow.

"Me, Mark and Roger always used to sneak in here when we were just out of high school," Collins explained. "I think I'm getting old, though. That took way more effort than it used to."

"You are old, sweetie," Angel giggled. "And decrepit."

"Have you been reading my word-of-the-day calendar again, baby?"

"Maybe."

Collins laughed, shamelessly stripping to his boxers and heading for the perfectly still water.

"HOLY SHIT!" he yelled when he resurfaced.

"Oh, it's cold?" Angel asked innocently as she delicately peeled off her tights and stuck a single wary toe in the water.

"Why? Are you scared?" Collins smiled knowingly as his lover sat on the edge of the pool and dangled her feet in the water.

"No!" Angel splashed him. "I'm just not the diving type. Besides, this mascara isn't waterproof."

Collins stuck out his bottom lip. "Oh, poor baby…"

"Shut up!" Angel giggled.

Collins leaned on the edge of the pool next to her and flicked a few drops of water into her lap.

"The point of this was to get you out of _all_ your clothes, Angelcake. I thought you realised that."

Angel shrugged, an evil laugh escaping her lips. "Looks like you'll have to wait, sweetie."

Collins' evil laugh matched hers, and was soon drowned out by her squeal as he grabbed her ankles and pulled her into the water.

"You're not getting away with that," he whispered, and his hungry kiss turned her squeak of protest into a sigh.

…

The next morning, the pool caretaker was surprised to see a pair of brightly coloured boxers floating in the water. His irritated muttering as he fished them out masked the two suppressed voices, one giggling and one swearing, coming from the other side of the fence.

…

_Reviews are like giving Collins back his boxers! XD_


	19. Everything's Okay

"It's okay

"It's okay."

Those were the first words out of Angel's mouth as she gently closed the door of the doctor's office behind her.

Collins looked up from the patch of carpet his eyes had been burning holes in since Angel had disappeared through the door twenty minutes ago. He studied his lover's face carefully before he got up and hugged her close. He could easily read in her expression that it was the exact opposite of okay, and that she was trying to be brave for him, but he didn't push it. He could be brave for both of them, because God knew Angel wasn't very good at it.

"Honestly, sugar," Angel said, and Collins could hear her struggling to hold her tears in. "Everything's okay."

"Okay," Collins consented. He pulled back to look into her face again. Her eyes were shining with tears and her lips here pressed together with the effort of not shedding them. Collins squeezed her hands, trying to tell her that she didn't have to pretend, but at the same time afraid to shatter the fragile illusion between them.

"Let's go home, honey," Angel whispered. "Please."

"Sure thing, baby," Collins assured her, kissing her forehead.

The pair walked out of the surgery slowly, both of Angel's arms wrapped around Collins'. The professor bit the inside of his cheek and fought the urge not to plead with Angel to tell him what was wrong, or at least to show some emotion other than false cheerfulness.

"Honey, what are you thinking?" Angel laughed. "You're leaving scorch marks on the pavement."

Collins blinked. Internally, he fought a violent battle over whether or not to tell the truth. He wasn't sure which side had won until he opened his mouth and blurted, "Everything's not okay, Angelcake."

"Sure it is," Angel shrugged, then frowned. "Right?"

"No," Collins admitted. "What did the doctor say, baby?"

Angel bit her lip. "That everything's okay," she whispered, but Collins could tell her heart wasn't in it.

"Everything's okay," she repeated, mostly to herself.

"Baby- "

"_Damn_ it, Thomas!" Angel burst out, a few traitorous tears escaping her eyes. "Why do you have to love me so much?"

Collins stopped walking, momentarily stunned.

"I'm more cut up about leaving you behind than I am about fucking dying," Angel sobbed.

"Angel…" Collins brushed a tear off her cheek and she let out a distraught moan, wrapping one hand around Collins' wrist and clutching a fistful of his shirt with the other.

Collins kissed her forehead. "It's gonna be okay," he murmured automatically, even though he knew, with every fibre of his being, that nothing would ever be okay again.

…

_Disclaimer: Don't own squat._

_Review?_


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